


If

by julie-yard (teh_jules)



Category: Southland (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Canon Compliant, F/M, Interracial Relationship, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Season 1, Set in Season 1, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teh_jules/pseuds/julie-yard
Summary: You shouldn't masturbate in someone else's living room, Russ.





	If

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Season 1 when Russ is living with the Adams for a few days. 
> 
> (English is not my native language.)

Lydia should've left straight away when she realized what the noises meant. But she didn't. She just stood there.

_You should go now._

She would go back now, slip into her bed and not think about it. But what if Russ would hear her? What if he heard and he would know and it would all be embarrassing and awkward?

She couldn't bring herself to move.

Russ looked so-- He looked so _good_.

Was it the light? The night that made everything better and worse all at once?

The moonlight made his skin stand out, even against the sheets. There was a strip of naked skin from his navel to his thighs.

Her body decided for her. It ran hot, it ran cold. Her mind was empty. There were only _feelings_. Her heart pounded, she could feel it down to her clit. Her breathing was uneven and it felt as if there wasn't enough oxygen in this room.

 _You should move,_ she thought again. But she didn't. And if she was honest with herself she didn't want to. She wanted to _see_. She wanted to know.

From where she stood she could see Russ' curls spread out on the arm of the couch, when he pressed his head back. She could see his fist working up and down over his pale cock.

It was a nice cock. Slightly curved upwards, with a fat mushroom head. It gleamed in the soft light, whenever Russ' hand slid down.

 _Oh_ , thought Lydia and bit down on her lip. Her mouth was dry. Breathing was getting harder.

What would he taste like? She couldn't push the question out of her mind. Never before had she thought about it. She had had a close lid on the box that held her inappropriate feelings for her partner. The fact that she even had a box of those told a lot about her.

But now it was pryed open and it came at her like a naughty jack in box.

Russ made a strangled sound and Lydia felt it in her body like an echo. He slung an arm over his eyes and pushed his hips upward. The sheet slid down over his thighs, revealed more skin dusted with dark hair.

 _You should be furious._ she thought. _You should be mad at him for getting your couch dirty._

But the anger wasn't there. Instead her fingers were cramping around the glass she was holding. Her toes were getting cold in her fuzzy socks because her blood was rushing someplace else. It pounded through her body, down to her pussy that felt hot and achy.

She wanted to trace her fingers over the arm, that was still hiding his face.

She wanted to sit on his thighs and wrap her hands around his cock. She wanted to see him come under her fingers.

God, she couldn't just stand here. She had to go back upstairs before she did something stupid. She needed to move. She had the disturbing thought that her mother would walk in any moment now.

What would shock her more? Russ jerking off on their couch or Lydia standing here, watching him?

Her face heated at the thought.

It wasn't the watching that made her stomach drop though. It was the _enjoying_. It was the committing it to memory for lonely nights that embarrassed her.

It was the fact that her body burned for him. That she imagined all kinds of things that she shouldn't want to do with her partner in the first place. Her very married, very white partner.

The most casual she had seen him in all those years had been when a suspect had spilled coffee on his shirt and he had slipped out of his suit jacket and dress shirt just like that.

The sight had irritated her. She had wanted to laugh at him. To tease him for looking out of place. But he didn't _look_ like a lanky boy in a t-shirt. Nor like someone who was missing a piece of armour.

He looked like a _man_.

A very handsome man, with toned arms and a broad back and she had _noticed_. And that was the problem.

Because Lydia wasn't supposed to see him like that. Because Lydia liked her man black and fine and unavailable like Terrell.

And not... Not like Russ. Not at all.

This had been the first time that lid had come close to loosening.

But now the whole damn jar was shattered and the lid was lost and she was so damned hot. Her body was tense and loose and hot and so, so ready.

And there he was now, laying on her couch. Pushing his hips into his fist, biting his lip and working towards release not knowing what he did to her.

Oh and how he was working it. Whatever he was imagining, he was really into it. He was leaking pre-cum all over his fingers, making those noises that turned her on like crazy.

The arm that hid his face, fell down to his side. For a moment she hoped his eyes would open and look at her. She wanted to see him come and look in his eyes.

Lydia was burning. Her whole body was working in overdrive. Getting ready for something that wouldn't happen. Her inner muscles clenched around nothing.

The tension was unbearable now. She wanted him to come. She wanted to come with him.

And with a low groan and a last push he came. His other hand shot out and covered his cock, catching his release.

Russ was still for a moment, his heavy breathing loud in the quiet of the living room.

He sighed and mumbled something. In a fluid movement he sat up, took his shirt off and wiped his hand clean on the cotton.

Lydia slid behind the door and tried to control her breathing. She waited for the dizziness to disappear, before making her way back upstairs on shaky legs.

Back in her bed it didn't take her long to come against her fingers, replaying what she had seen over and over again.

She came hard and long, her head thrown back. It took her some time to catch her breath. In the darkness of her bedroom she sat up and peeled her night dress from her sweating body. She emptied the glass of water she had carried upstairs earlier. Her thirst wasn't quenched though. She felt empty.

Lydia fell back against the mattress, sighing.

Was Russ asleep now? Or staring into the darkness wishing for his wife? His lover?

In a moment of weakness Lydia imagined snuggling up to a warm, male body. A body that looked suspiciously like that of her partner.

Tomorrow, she promised herself, she would deal.

Tomorrow she would put everything back together.

end.

 

 


End file.
